


Need You To Knead Me

by mmmdraco



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Place, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 23:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1666364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's restaurant had won best pizza in town for the last three years.  When a new pizza place opened nearby, he'd expected business to slow at first thanks to curiosity, but it still hadn't really picked up. He'd also tasted the other guy's pizza and was maybe getting a little obsessed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Need You To Knead Me

"How is he never fucking there?" Derek grumbled as he ducked into the back room of his restaurant, glaring at Erica as he pulled out the box of the competitor's pizza he was hiding under his jacket.

Erica shrugged and made grabby hands for the box. "I have no clue. But, oh! That hipster guy was in here again. I swear he waits for you to leave. He's been by every day this week!"

Rolling his eyes, Derek hung up his jacket and sat down on an upside down bucket and shook his head. "And I've eaten pizza every day this week, too. From my competitor. Who is never fucking there!" He pulled a slice from the box and took a large bite, hissing softly at the way it burned his tongue. 

"Hey, everyone still says you have the best sauce?" Erica plucked off a piece of crust and popped it into her mouth, chewing contentedly.

And that was the thing. When the new restaurant had opened, Derek hadn't given it much thought. He'd won best pizza in town for the last three years, after all. He'd expected business to slow at first thanks to curiosity, but it still hadn't really picked up. When he'd finally mentioned it to his sister, Cora, she'd been the one to mention that her friends kept going on and on about the crust at the new place and how even the ones who usually left the crusts always polished off everything. The next day, Derek had hung up his apron right after the lunch rush and walked the block east and block north to get to _Are You Kidding Me?_ which, if Derek were forced to admit it, was just as stupid as his own _HaleFire_. Hell, neither of them even actually had "pizza" in the name.

The guy at the counter at his competitor's smiled crookedly at Derek when he came in. Or maybe his jaw just did that anyway? Either way, Derek ordered a small cheese pizza to go because, while toppings were great, he was there to taste the baseline model. After the order was in, Derek casually asked after the owner, stating that he was also a business owner in the area and wanted to extend a proper greeting. The guy had started to shrug, but then seemed to remember. "Oh, he just stepped out! He should be back in like half an hour? Your pizza will be ready before then, but if you want to wait..." He trailed off and Derek shook his head. He had tomatoes in the pressure cooker back in his own kitchen. And Erica had possibly also demanded to try the pizza while it was still hot. Isaac, at least, told him he wouldn't mind it cold.

With his pizza in hand, he'd gone back to his place and he and Erica had done a taste test that resulted in finishing off the whole pie in far less time than Derek wanted to admit. God, the sauce was mediocre at best and the cheese was actually pretty similar to his own, but that crust! Derek used his grandmother's old recipe and it had served him fine for years, but he couldn't help but realize that whatever the other owner was doing to their dough [No, his dough. The guy at the counter had said "he".] was something amazing and Derek wanted to know what it was. He didn't want to steal it, exactly. He just wanted to maybe adapt his own recipe to have more of those characteristics.

The next several days had gone much the same way (though he started working through the selections of toppings), and Erica started to tell him about the cute guy with hipster glasses who seemed to come in every time he was out. He generally tuned her out at that point. Sure, he liked guys with glasses, but Erica seemed far too focused on that when attempting to find someone for Derek. Anyway, he had too much going on to worry about that. There was rival pizza to eat, plus he needed to get up early the next day to head to the restaurant supply store for a new chef's knife and a package of O-rings for the gasket on his pressure cooker. Maybe while he was out, he'd have breakfast somewhere and at least give someone else's business money other than his competitor.

When he got to the restaurant supply store the next morning, he found himself driven to distraction by another man in the store. He was around the same height that Derek was, and had glasses, but also had a wry grin, a slightly upturned nose, and the most delicious looking chocolate brown moles that Derek had ever wanted to taste. It was only when he actually forced himself that he managed to focus on his knife selection, carefully holding the demo handles to find one that fit his hands correctly. Of course it was his luck that when he finally decided and went to pull down one of boxed knives, two more boxes fell past his shoulder and he heard a muttered, "Fuck!" from behind him.

Turning quickly, Derek hissed, because of course it was tall glasses guy with the moles. "Hey, sorry. You okay?"

The guy's nose wrinkled as he picked up the two boxes and handed them to Derek. "The only thing injured is the box for the forks I'm buying. No real harm there." He licked his lower lip and took a quick breath. "I'm Stiles, by the way."

Putting the two knives back, Derek grinned. "I'm Derek." He looked back up to the knives, then back to Stiles. "I'm glad they were in boxes. I'd hate to see you hit with the real thing."

"Oh, I can take a beating," Stiles said with a sudden grin. "I'm a little more into skin on skin action than knives, though." He paused. "And just in case that sounds as horrible as I think it did, I'm flirting. Very badly."

Derek laughed and quirked his head to one side for a moment. "At least I wasn't alone in that." He checked his watch and decided to throw caution to the wind. "Maybe we can continue flirting over breakfast? The diner down the street has a way with biscuits and gravy."

Stiles let out a moan of delight. "Oh, man! Awesome. I just moved here like a month ago and I haven't had a chance to get to many restaurants yet. I will abuse your knowledge if this place is actually as good as that look on your face says it is."

And that's how he ended up going out to breakfast with Stiles before heading to his restaurant, new phone contact saved away, with a full stomach and enough of a spring in his step that even he noticed it and forced himself to mellow before Erica began to nag him. He sent Erica out for their pizza that day, spending his own lunch time sitting in the back and texting with Stiles about possibly doing something the next day after he got out of work. He hadn't felt that giddy in a long time, but it certainly felt nice.

Their first date involved Chinese and late-night mini golf. Derek had mentioned that most of his first dates had been for pizza and Stiles groaned. "Dude, I think the only time this last week that I didn't have pizza for a meal was when we went for breakfast. Let's get some MSG and then go hit balls at a windmill." Derek tried not to show how much that comment kind of fit him, too.

It was a fun date, and Derek was quite happy to give Stiles a gentle kiss at the end of it and a promise to text him the next day.

Text Stiles, Derek did. Of course, it was while he was waiting for his pizza and bemoaning the fact that he had grown so tired of pizza through making it that he barely ate it anymore and got to cut back on his workout routine, but was now ruining that because he was obsessed with the crust that was taking away some of his business. At least their prices were pretty much the same.

He ended up on a date with Stiles a few nights later where they grabbed burgers and headed back to Stiles' place to watch a movie that, afterward, Derek's couldn't recall a single plot point of thanks to the distraction that was Stiles' lips. It was crazy how their schedules synced up, but Derek himself seemed to work more often than not which had ended his last relationship pretty handily. Stiles seemed to understand. They never got together very early in the evening and never stayed out too late and sometimes met for breakfast. It felt nice to find someone he was so very attracted to who seemed to have a life that fit so easily with Derek's own.

It was on their fourth date that Derek took Stiles back to his place, kissing getting more and more urgent until suddenly pants were a forgotten entity. They exhausted each other in bed, and Stiles ended up spending the night. In the morning, Derek made them eggs benedict with freshly squeezed orange juice, his cheeks aching slightly with how much he was smiling. "So, you should probably come visit me on your lunch hour sometime."

Stiles laughed softly. "Are you going to feed me? I think I'd like that." His nose wrinkled. "Although, come to think of it, I don't even know where you work? I kind of assumed you were a chef in one of those snooty uptown places where everything's served with a sunny-side-up quail egg on top."

Derek started to laugh, but realized that he also didn't know where Stile worked. "I figured you were a baker? You always smell like yeast."

"I guess, kind of?" Stiles shrugged and settled his fork against his empty plate. "I do work with dough."

"HaleFire," Derek said suddenly.

Stiles snorted. "Ah, no. I mean, I've eaten their pizza for the last week, but they're actually my competition. That sauce, though. I keep trying to find when the chef's there so I can ask him about what kind of onions he uses."

Derek's jaw had dropped open halfway through Stiles' words, brow knitting in confusion. "I meant that HaleFire is my place. You know, because I'm Derek _Hale."_

" _You're_ moody business owner?" Stiles let his head fall back in laughter. "What the hell?" 

Grinning, Derek reached out to brush his fingers against the back of Stiles' hand. "You're hipster glasses guy, then. I guess I'll have to congratulate Erica on finally telling me about someone who is actually perfect for me." 

Stiles bit his lip, leaning in closer. "I think maybe we're perfect for each other." He stuck out his tongue, head leaning to one side as he thought about the situation. "How in the world did we always miss each other? I mean, I walked straight up to your shop every day and you were always over at my restaurant then." 

Derek paused to think through Stiles' statement. "I went the other way. You went down a block and then straight across, and so did I, so we went opposite ways. And, I would guess that in that part of town the lunch rush is always going to be around the same time." He paused. "We should combine forces, you know. Your crust, my sauce... Then we'll stop taking business from each other." 

"How do I know this isn't some secret plan to discover my secrets?" Stiles grinned. "I mean, I'd steal yours, too, of course. But, this... we would really need to think about this, wouldn't we?" 

Standing up, Derek moved around the table to let his arms wrap around Stiles' neck from behind. "Let's make a pie together at lunch today. I'll bring my sauce to your kitchen and we'll see how that goes. If we like it, we can try it out on some other people. If all goes well, then we can combine our restaurants into something with an even more stupid name." 

"And... if _we _don't go well?" Stiles swallowed audibly, his Adam's apple working against Derek's forearm.__

Derek pulled Stiles up from the chair and into a quick kiss. "Then we become colleagues and maybe each get a night off occasionally." 

"That sounds really tempting, but I'd want those with you, I think." Stiles' fingers slipped just under the waistband of Derek's boxers as he spoke. 

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Derek let his own hands cup Stiles' ass. "Then we train up some people to our exacting standards and go places for things that are not pizza." 

Stiles leaned closer to Derek, grinning. "How about a quickie before we go roast in our kitchens for the day and so I won't be so tempted when you come over to cook with me?" 

With a roll of his eyes, Derek gave a tiny nod, his hands gripping Stiles' ass tightly. "We can try it, but no guarantees. I may want you horribly again later." 

Blushing slightly, Stiles leaned in close to say softly, "Just don't mix up the sauce and the lube you should bring and you might have yourself a deal." 

Derek wondered if it was all supposed to convince him of destiny, but instead it just made him believe in the power of great pizza. 


End file.
